let's be lonely together
by the-ballad-of-a-dove
Summary: "I've been so alone...no, not alone. Just lonely."


**I'll be honest, this idea kind of just popped into my head and I wrote whatever my mind threw at me. I didn't really got back and read into this too much, so it's a little rough (okay, maybe a _lot _rough). I sort of like it anyways. Maybe some other people will too.** _hopefully_

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><p>Massie Block walked - no, <em>stalked<em> - to her first period class. She no longer felt vulnerable traversing the hallways alone. One gets used to loneliness after a while.

A few people smiled or waved in her direction, but most just stared at the odd, glasses-clad being that _sorta-kinda_ reminded them of some all-powerful, model-esque queen bee they used to know. For now she was no longer all-powerful _nor_ was she a queen bee, as she preferred to remain a lone wolf; although she still may fall under the model category (who says oversized sweaters paired with leggings and dorky glasses can't be chic?).

So she sat down in her AP History classroom and relinquished her still hot coffee - no cream, no sugar, just a dash of vanilla, and often a splash of her daddy's most prized Irish whiskey - onto the cold surface of her desk and studiously pulled out her notebook and pen (a special, pricey one with dark _dark_ red ink). History is her favorite subject. Unless it's her _own_ history, that is.

Students filed into the classroom, nerds mostly. You know, the pimply-faced, no fashion sense, video game obsessed kids whom the A-listers can't stand. Massie, however, is no longer an A-lister (at least not _technically_), and she finds them utterly harmless. Not worth much thought, but harmless.

Kristen Gregory strolled in as well, wearing Seven jeans and an Alice + Olivia top Massie just knows she didn't leave her house wearing. Kind Kristen gave her a smile, looking as if she's just done something simply _angelic_. And, as per usual, Massie nodded an I'm-just-acknowledging-you-because-I-have-to sort of nod in response. Massie is, if anything, civil.

The teacher had already written 'The French Revolution' on the board, so Massie wrote that title down in her notebook as she waited for the teacher to begin her lecture. While in the middle of writing down a cursive 'R', she felt the soft pressure of a breath on the back of her neck. She looked up and twisted around - usually no one sat behind her.

But today, obviously someone was. This said someone was a once blond, shaggy-haired, brown eyed boy who wore shorts at all times. It seemed Derrick Harrington had changed as well.

Massie stared at him, taking in everything from his short hair to his jeans. His Labrador-looking eyes remained the same, but everything else seemed so different. "Hey, Derrick. What brings you to my history class?" She said this casually, as if he hadn't been gone living in Europe for the past three and a half years or so.

He grinned, melting his sharp features a little. "This is my history class now, too, Block. Europe got boring."

She managed to crack the smallest of smiles at his use of her last name, just like old times. "You look different."

"You too. Majorly." He tapped her glasses, making her feel like a fish in a glass bowl. "I haven't been back in Westchester long, but I hear you've ditched the old crew."

Massie lifted her coffee to her lips and took a large mouthful. Caffeine was a necessity if Derrick was going to open up old wounds.

Just then, as if he could sense Massie's inner distress, the teacher walked up to the front of the room to begin a lecture that would cut short whatever conversation she and Derrick were about to have. She gave Derrick an apologetic smile and turned herself to the front of the room, happy to have avoided what would have been a most awkward and painful conversation. For now, at least.

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><p><strong>That's about it for now. Sorry it was sorta brief (and, like I said, rough), but I might make it into a multi-chapter thing if I can maintain my current excitement about it. Reviews are appreciated (I want someone to tell me what I'm doing wrong, so that I can fix it!), but if not, at least that nifty 'Traffic Stats' thing lets me know if people read it. <strong>

_dove_


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